Drive

Existentialism is a key component in the 1970's films that Drive emulates. The silent lead. The long scenes driving. The lack of reason within the movie. All are key components of Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn's picture. He takes a silent anti-hero and shows that sometimes people really don't change.

Drive follows a Hollywood stuntman/getaway/hopeful race car driver, known simply as The Driver (Ryan Gosling), as he grows close to his neighbor, Irene (Carey Mulligan) and her son, Benecio (Kaden Leos). He ends up becoming involved with her ex con husband, Standard (Oscar Isaac), who is involved with a typical crew of gangsters, who happen to be the funding behind Driver and his mechanic's (Bryan Cranston) racing ambitions.

The film opens slowly and remains that way for the first two acts. The movie is paced out slowly, with events happening just fast enough to keep the audience engaged, while still holding the silent moments. Most of the picture is dialogue free, and The Driver utters almost no full sentences. The one scene that does have a full conversation between his character and another feels a bit awkward and “wordy” though in another film it would still be considered a short dialogue scene.

The actions of The Driver seem at first to be a bit random. Yes, it's clear he has feelings for Irene, but The Driver goes to excessive trouble to help her husband out of his trouble, even though he is the competition. The Driver brings up an old fable about a Scorpion who is helped across a river by a frog only to give into his nature as a scorpion and stab the frog midway, killing both himself and the frog. This fable seems to be where the film takes its central theme about nature. The film also harkens to Albert Camus's classic existential novel The Stranger, and the seemingly random acts committed by Meaursault in that are reflected by The Driver.

The cinematography in the film also reflects the minimal nature of it. The way that the car chase scenes, in particular, are shot invokes not so much a tense sensation in the viewer but a sense of ease. They are long drawn out shots, smooth without the erratic camerawork that is often associated with action, in particular driving films, today. The scenes with violence are almost all shot in slow motion which gives them a ballet like quality, again luring the audience into a sense of ease, even as it pushes them away with the gore.

The acting in the film is top notch. Gosling takes a character with almost no dialogue and manages to turn him into an intriguing and compelling anti-hero. It pays into the old adage that less is more, though the statement is not entirely accurate. It is more like what he lacks in words is made up for with looks. The scene where we understand that The Driver and Irene are in love is one in which there are two sentences said, but the scene is three or four minutes long. All that needs to be said is said through the way they look at each other, or more accurately, avoid each other's looks. Albert Brooks and Ron Perlman as the gangsters are also high quality. Ron Perlman's character is the stereotypical gangster; loud, brash, interested in fast cars. Perlman makes no illusions about the character and plays him straight. Brooks is far more subtle in his approach to his character, Bernie Rose. As opposed to the usual unforgiving character that mobsters are, Brooks plays the character as a reluctant killer. Make no mistake though Rose is still a psychopath, just one that sees the murders he commits as tragedies. Though his part is not particularly large, Bryan Cranston's performance as the neurotic mechanic is noteworthy if only because he is the character who has known The Drive the longest and is used for little more than an exposition machine. The child acting by Leos is also impressive. Refn shows that children are best used when they can use their naturally expressive features.

The film borrows heavily from earlier film genres. One film that critics seem to be comparing it to frequently is Quentin Tarantino's ensemble mobster film Pulp Fiction, though the comparison only goes so far in that both films are ultra violent and obsessed with the pop culture of previous decades. One of the most obvious aspects of the film, other than the main character's similarity to to 70's action hero's, is the 80s feel it has. The title comes up on the screen in a bright pink font, with 80's techno blaring in the background. The music is actually a very important aspect of the film, especially when it comes to the way The Driver is perceived by the audience. As opposed to blaring heavy metal (which seems to be the stereotypical driving soundtrack) he listens to big band/pop. All these anachronistic elements give the film a bit of a timeless feel.

For all that the film does right there are some elements that make it less than perfect. The third act of the film takes the style and feel of the first two acts and disregards them. Where the first two thirds of the film is deliberately paced the third act trades pacing for action and the film begins to feel disjointed. It could be argued that the swift change in the way the film unfurls is related to the way that The Driver is reacting to the mobsters. That's backed up by the way that the third act begins, changing The Driver from a passive character to an active one in an obvious and shocking way. However, deciding in the third act of a film that is entirely held up by mood to switch over and focus on character development seems flawed.

Overall Drive accomplishes what it set out to do. Throughout the film the mood is the primary force. The message of the film is clear, and the style shines through. Even with all that said it is not a perfect film.

Hunger (Independent Film Review)

Hunger is a piece of art.  There is a plot, and there is exposition, but for all intents, it is not a movie, but art.  It is no surprise that the film feels more art than motion picture.  The director, Steve McQueen, is a visual artists who uses film to create his art.  Hunger is his first film and though based on true events doesn't concern itself with those events.

The film is about three men; a new prisoner to Her Majesty's Prison Maze, Davey (Brian Milligan), a prison guard Raymond Lohan (Stuart Graham), and Bobby Sands (Michael Fassbender) the leader of the hunger strike which gives the film its name.  Davey and Raymond's stories intertwine during the first third of the film, while the latter two thirds show Bobby as he decides to begin the hunger strike designed to give  Ireland Freedom.

Although it does have plot, as I said, its a piece of art.

The film is made up of moments more than anything else.  A character paints the walls of his cell with his feces.  A quiet guard stands outside as his peers beat prisoners running a gauntlet of police sticks.  Sands sees his past as he begins to die of starvation.  A prisoner has a moment where he befriends a fly.

The cinematography is incredible.  Parts of the film is crystal clear, and parts of it have been taken out of focus.  The camera rarely cuts, but when it does it cuts into montages.  There is a 20 minute still shot that is the only real dialogue in the film.

The acting by Fassbender is phenomenal.  Most of the film is not dialogue and yet his emotions show through.  The one scene that is dialogue is almost like a play, and Fassbender and the Priest his character is talking to (Liam Cunningham) play it out perfectly.

Four Lions (Independent Film Review)

There are two kinds of controversial comedy, those that are crass and loud, such as the Jackass films, and those that are so dark they alienate a good portion of their audience, such as Worlds Greatest Dad.  Four Lions is the kind that alienates.

The film follows four terrorists as they attempt to pull off a suicide bombing.  After a debacle of a training camp the leader of their merry band, Omar (Riz Ahmed) takes them rogue.  They set about deciding on where to bomb, and making their explosives.

On a technical level the film is nothing spectacular.  Much of the film is shot in a simple way, no fancy camera tricks.  The films feels almost like a homemade video, the night shots are shot in nightvision.  The entire film is slightly washed out.  All this adds to the effect though, what better way to shoot terrorists than how they would shoot themselves.

The film takes such a forward approach to suicide bombings that it can be jarring at times, and this coming from a guy who lives on the dark seedy comedies of controversy.  Two of the terrorists are full out idiots, they are in the film to represent how easily these men can be swayed to the will of the... stronger willed.  Much of the humor in the film comes from the screw ups that the group makes.  Don't know how to use an RPG?  Well that means your gonna blow something up you didn't mean to.

While most of the film works as a satire and the characters are, relatively, believable, the family of Omar is too over the top and takes away from the film.  While all the terrorists are fine with each other being blown up, I'd think his wife might not be so happy about, being left with a son to take care of.  The son too is overly happy that his father has decided to blow himself up to destroy "capitalism" even while he watches Lion King and plays with water guns.


Perhaps the most amazing thing to think about is that the film ever even got made.  Coming just five years after the London bombings it seems as though a British audience would have reservations about it. The director raised much of the funding from would be viewers as he couldn't ensure money from the British Film groups.  The film is by no means for everybody, and those easily offended should steer far clear.

Un prophète (A Prophet) (Foreign Film Review: France)

Underdog stories are the stuff of feel good films.  Even ones involving the mafia, like Martin Scorsese's Goodfellas or Francis Ford Coppola's Godfather trilogy, allow us, the viewer, to connect with the characters, we are holy in their world and as such we abide by their morals.  A Prophet is not like those films.  It falls into the category that the Italian film Gomorra (Gomorrah) is part of, a deconstruction of our romanticized view of crime.  At the same time the main character of A Prophet, Malik, spends the entire film in a prison, and its clear by the end, thats what built up his success.

The movie follows a young arab, Malik, as he is placed in prison for 6 years.  We never find out his initial crime, but by the time he gets out he's also responsible for numerous murders as well as drug trafficking.  The lead up to his fall, or rise depending on your viewpoint, to heavier crimes, happens when he becomes close with the Corsican mobster, Cesar.  As Cesar and his crew work their way around the prison system, Malik begins his own crew, outside of both the Corsican's and, the opposing force, the Arabs.

The film at first seems to be made in a harshly realistic style.  The film is shot handheld, and their doesn't appear to be anything out of place with reality.  All that changes after Malik commits his first murder.  He begins to see visions of the future, brought to him by the murdered man.  His clairvoyance earns him the nickname "prophet".

The film is reminiscent of Bronson a british prison movie about the life of British criminal Charles Bronson.  Both films feature extremely strong performances by the lead.  Both are stylized with fantasy elements.  Both are prison films.  A Prophet though has much stronger supporting characters.  It also has a plot that makes you feel that you've seen a complete story.

The director of the film says that it is fictional, and that it isn't trying to send a message, but the race relations, and the fall from grace that the film shows can be seen as messages.  Is it coincidental that Malik becomes educated when he goes deep into the crime scene?  Or that he exits the prison system more criminal than when he entered? Perhaps it is, but at what point does the subconscious of the director, or the character, shine through no matter how hard he tries to suppress it.

Bubble (Independent Film Review)

As a director Steven Soderbergh has one of the most eclectic careers in cinema.  He broke into the filmmaking industry with Sex, Lies, and Videotape, a film that was pivotal in the independent scene in the early 90s.  Soderbergh went on to direct the more commercially viable Ocean's movies (Ocean's Eleven, Ocean's Twelve, Ocean's Thirteen).  Bubble was made immediately after Ocean's Twelve.

Bubble follows the lives of three small town factory workers, who are all employed at the local doll factory.  The film is shoved into the thriller genre, because there is a murder that happens, but for the most part the film is more like watching the three characters as they skirt around each other.

The script was not written, but improvised.  Not only was it improvised, it was improvised by the untrained actors, actors who has not so much as set foot on a stage, or in front of a camera.  The improvisation and lack of training isn't as obvious during the first 2/3s of the movie, when the actors are playing characters that are essentially themselves.  As soon as the murder takes place, and they are questioned, their lack of experience shows through.

Not all of the blame rests with the actors though.  Gus Van Sant used a similar technique in his murder/thriller Paranoid Park which it used far better than Bubble.  Even the reaction to murder (which happens in both films) is better in Paranoid Park, likely due to the fact that that film, unlike Bubble had a script.

The look of the film is harsh, grating.  The opening of the film has pretty still shots of the empty town.  After the characters are introduced though, any pretense at fancy camerawork is replaced with static over the shoulder shots, not altogether out of place among the drabness of the rest of the film.

The film is almost too much of an experiment.  All of the attempts at making the film as "independent" as it could be, made it lose all of its low budget feel.  While most indy filmmakers are trying to up their production value, Soderbergh was trying to lower his.  Ultimately Bubble looks like a cheap trick by a filmmaker known to make better.

$9.99 (Independent Film Review)

Etgar Keret is an Israeli author and scriptwriter known for his off kilter tales , similar to modern day fables. In $9.99, his third collaboration with Australian short film director Tatia Rosenthal, he takes hope and transposes it onto a modern day apartment building.

The film follows a group of residents who all reside within an apartment building in Sydney, Australia.  Each of the characters has their own story, which all meet and are interconnected.  The film is in stop motion, which seems like nothing more than a stylistic choice at the beginning of the film, is soon revealed to be put to good use.  The film has fantasy elements, but the animation makes the fantastical elements seem to fit into the Sydney backdrop.

The animation itself is phenomenal, beautifully smooth, with none of the slight jumpiness that is typical of stop motion animation films.  Their is a point in the film where a character shaves off all his hair, but he remains recognizable even with the lack of detail in most stop motion puppets.

Geoffrey Rush as the embittered chain smoking angel, is the highlight of the film.  His dry delivery and comedy is no doubt brought on be his own knowledge of humor, as well as the excellent script by Keret.    The rest of the cast was also top notch and the integration of the voice actors into their animated avatars was also well done.

The overlying themes of hope in the modern day, sometimes get muddled with the way that certain characters interact.  While the Angel is easily seen as a postmodern interpretation of a redeemer, the rest of characters roles are not as clear.  The director's choice in how the story is told is unclear at times, and the causes for some of the more fantastical element's needed to be made clearer, especially given the film's dark and brooding opening.

The film is a dark comedy and it certainly shows that.  Its rare though, in that the darkness of the piece comes not from flawed characters (though they are indeed flawed) but by situations that cause them to misunderstand each other.  This overlying inability to control everything is perhaps the greatest stake the film makes in its message that hope is alive, even in our disjointed, unorganized, modern society.

Black Swan (Oscar Review)

Any category that has Win next to it is a category in which I think the film will win.


5 Nominations
Best Picture
Best Director: Darren Aronofsky
Best Actress: Natalie Portman (Win)
Best Cinematography: Matthew Libatique (Win)
Best Editing: Andrew Weisblum

Natalie Portman is an actress often associated with either The Professional or the Star Wars prequels, films that don't really show her chops as an actress.  Some films that she's great in but aren't as widely known are Garden State and Brothers.  Her performance in Black Swan falls into this latter category.  She plays a character so unlike how she is in real life that its amazing how well she pulls it off.  The character arc for Nina (Portman) is such that it requires Portman to go through the full range of emotions.  Much like James Franco in 127 Hours the entire film resides on Portman's shoulders, and if she didn't pull it off it would have made Black Swan a run of the mill thriller as opposed to the impressive freudian allegory that it is.



Even though a good 20% of the movie takes place with the camera behind Portman's head, Matthew Libatique's cinematography is impressive.  The movie is about a ballerina, and Libatique found a way to shoot ballet that essentially made the camera one of the dancers, easily conveying the sense of speed and grace that is ballet, but usually doesn't make the jump from stage to screen.  The camera has a constant fluidity to it throughout the film, and is very clearly not in any physical space, a fact made unnervingly obvious during scenes in which the camera has no reflection.